


They Are

by Whoareyou0000



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Abused Mickey Milkovich, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Canon Compliant, Canon Gay Relationship, Endgame Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich Happy Ending, Jealous Ian Gallagher, Jealous Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Protective Ian Gallagher, Protective Mickey Milkovich, Shameless Smut, Soft Ian Gallagher, Soft Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Soft Mickey Milkovich, Sort of Poetry, Top Ian Gallagher, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoareyou0000/pseuds/Whoareyou0000
Summary: Ian is a Gallagher, born of addiction and mental illness and raised on adrenaline and survival. Mickey is a Milkovich, born of violence and murder and raised on homophobia and crime. Together they are Mickey and Ian, a twisted recipe for love.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	They Are

They’re a Nicholas Sparks Movie Directed by Quentin Tarantino

A fist to an eye and bruises drawing black and blue lines between freckles. Blood streaming from a split lip that marks Ian’s body when Mickey throws him onto the bed, bites, and then muscles him under until their rock hardness meets. Breath hitching and clothes tearing as Mickey growls into Ian’s ear and laps up their shared red like a man starving. 

They’re That Warren Zevon Werewolf Song if He Lived on the Southside 

Mickey mouthing the fence to stifle a groan, chain link diamonds indenting into his palms, and grunting, _harder bitch._ Ian picking up the pace, slapping skin against sweaty skin with only their own spit for lubrication. Ian covering Mickey’s dirty fingernails with his own when they both release and collapse into the dugout, the full moon shining down. 

They’re the First Twenty Pages of a Stephen King Thriller 

Shotgun. Beer spilling down Ian’s chin when Mickey does that thing that always makes him laugh. Ian shoving Mickey into the dirt as payback and then pouncing, attacking his face with teasing pecks, until Mickey flips them over and shoves a bitter, High Life-tasting, tongue between those playful, cheery lips. The force of the speeding train shaking the ground beneath. 

They’re a Bonnie and Clyde Coming of Age Story 

Mickey, behind glass, posturing for the assholes to his left and right. Ian splitting his freckled face apart with a lovesick smile and pushing hair the color of the sunset away from his heart-shaped eyes. Mickey chewing on a smirk and later curling up in his bunk and fantasizing about tracing those lips and tugging on that fringe while touching himself. 

They’re a Black and White Photo from a War Without a Name

Ian stuffing camo pants and green t-shirts into a duffel on his bed. Mickey doing his best impression of James Dean against the bunk’s ladder, twirling a knife in his hand, opening and closing the blade and bringing it enticingly close to his pale, Ukrainian skin, before lurching over and slamming it into Ian’s surprised palm. _Take it. In case any of those ROTC fuckers gets rapey._ The Milkovich version of a dip and kiss. 

They’re a Lifetime Drama Complete With Arranged Marriage 

_Don’t._ Ian pleading into the warm space between a shitty clip-on tie and Mickey’s pulse point. Fucking wedding music symbolizing a death march. Mickey holding onto his redhead like he’s the only thing keeping him from jumping into a bottomless ocean. _You act like I got a choice._ Ian stiffening, crying, pulling away, and releasing Mickey into the cold, lonely, freezing blackness with arms flailing. The Russian bride coming, the redhead running away. 

They're Sleeping Beauty if Aurora Took Up Pole Dancing

Mickey leaning in, nose against freckled ear, begging over loud music and old man groans. Ian grinding, pupils the size of dimes, grinning like a stepford wife after her morning pick me up. Gold thong clashing with crimson hair. Mickey's heart racing, throbbing, filling with worry he didn't know he possessed. Ian kissing, touching, collapsing into a snowbank and then into the familiar comfort of Mickey's protective arms.

They’re One Flew Over the Cookoo’s Nest Minus Health Insurance 

Ian bouncing off the walls, Yevgeny giggling above his head. Ian coming home from the strip club with that sick smile that gets under Mickey’s skin in a bad way. Then…Ian curling between blankets for the fifth day in a row, hair matting to his sweaty forehead, the stink permeating, tears leaving a permanent layer of salt on freckled cheeks. Mickey joining him in the abyss, sniffing his neck, holding him close, loving the motherfucker through it all. 

They’re a Bonfire Fueled by Every Shakespearean Tragedy 

Mickey’s flaming, pleading eyes searing a hole in Ian’s forehead from beneath the Gallagher staircase. Ian shaking his head, running from the fire, looking away from the charred remains of their love. Ian numbing. Mickey's heart breaking. The door slamming shut and Mickey finally succumbing to the blaze when he’s left alone, finally truly alone, to burn out. 

They’re That Justin Bieber Lyric Stuck on Repeat 

Ian swearing that he won’t go to their spot. Going anyway. Angry shoving, punching, temper tantrums turning into kissing so fierce that their teeth battle it out for who can get his tongue deeper. Then Mickey against another fence, pants at his ankles, and Ian sliding inside of his long-lost home and planting a soft kiss in that spot below Mickey’s ear, making him feel like a firework’s show on the fourth of July.

They’re a Taylor Swift Track Without the Empowerment 

Mickey driving, driving, driving, and gone. Ian finally exhaling as the car safely transcends the border. Ian doing the right thing, Ian preserving his sanity, Ian crying, crying, crying as he takes a long walk back to the last gas station, jacking a ride back to a boyfriend who will never be enough and a house that is no longer home without a violent, mouthy Ukrainian boy to warm its sheets.

They’re Scared Straight Without the Straight 

Ian stripping, bending, coughing, dressing, and then climbing metal stairs up to a five by eight cell. Ian trembling and clutching stained sheets against his racing heart, ignoring the catcalls from multiple violent, angry men. Ian turning when the door opens and deflating. Mickey exhaling, explaining, hoping. Ian softening, Mickey smiling, both of them kissing, grappling, making up for lost time. 

They’re a John Hughes Movie but the Redhead Chooses the Lovable Outcast 

Green eyes meet blue across the room as Ed Sheron croons from shitty speakers. Ian hobbling on his boot, heart racing, joining Mickey in the center of the dance floor. Both collapsing into arms ready, waiting, and longing. Faces buried in each other, breathing in familiar scents, promising without speaking, and holding tightly to their beers while the credits roll over their happy ending.

They are Mickey Milkovich and Ian Gallagher, husbands, and that's all they'll ever need to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless or the characters within.
> 
> Author's Note: I don't know where this came from, but it did come and therefore I am publishing it. Thanks for reading and drop a review if you enjoy my work!


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